


Refuge

by ImpishTubist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Angst, Canonical Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 22:04:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2084808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImpishTubist/pseuds/ImpishTubist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus and Harry have a chat after the events in the Department of Mysteries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Refuge

**Author's Note:**

> A missing scene from the end of OotP. Also an AU. Implied Remus/Sirius, but blink and you’ll miss it.
> 
> All my thanks to [Oakstone730](http://archiveofourown.org/users/oakstone730), who gave this a quick read-through to make sure I hadn’t made any glaring errors because it’s been so long since I last read the books/lurked in this fandom. Anything that doesn’t quite fit with what we know about the HP universe should just be considered artistic license, since I am willing to bend any and all canon to make AUs like this one happen.

Remus had never before felt trepidation upon setting foot in the Gryffindor Common Room.

 

But when the portrait swung shut behind him, a weight coalesced in the pit of his stomach and his mouth went dry. The room was mostly deserted, the students for the most part taking advantage of the beautiful weather and expansive grounds. The ones who had elected to stay indoors were chatting in small groups around the room, though all conversation ceased when he stepped through the portrait hole.

 

A tawny-haired third year pointed him in the direction of the dormitories when he inquired after Harry, and he thanked the boy with a nod before proceeding up the winding staircase.

 

The weight in the pit of his stomach seemed to grow heavier, and his hands were clammy. Remus brushed his palms against his robes, and the fingers of his left hand passed over the folded up sheet of parchment in his pocket, reminding him swiftly of what exactly he was about to do.

 

He stood in front of the closed dormitory door for a moment, pausing to gather his thoughts. There were so many ways that this conversation could play out, and he had tried to account for each one. Planned out what he was going to say, and how he might respond to whatever Harry’s reaction might be.

 

There came the sudden sound of shattering glass, and Remus startled out of his thoughts. Silence followed the crash, and he couldn’t put off his task any longer. Remus raised his fist to knock on the door.

 

“Harry?” he added when the door didn’t open. “Are you in there? I was wondering if I could have a word. Please.”

 

A creak of springs, like someone getting off a bed. Then, the door handle turned and it swung open.

 

Remus had mentally prepared himself for seeing Harry, knowing that Harry wasn’t bound to look better than himself, but still his heart constricted at the sight of Harry’s pale face and the dark crescents under his eyes. Harry stared at him blankly for a moment, until Remus prompted, “A word, Harry. It’ll only take a moment.”

 

Harry stepped aside. Remus entered the room and closed the door behind him. The dormitory hadn’t changed much since his own fifth year. Any decorations that might have been hanging on the walls had been taken down in preparation for the end of term, and most of the trunks were packed for the journey home.

 

“I’m on my way to see Dumbledore. I thought I’d stop by and see you first, though,” Remus said. “How are you, Harry?”

 

“Fine,” Harry said with an angry vehemence that surprised Remus. “Yeah, really great. I mean, I saw Sirius die and it’s all my fault, but other than that, things are splendid.”

 

He was looking at Remus now with a defiant expression on his face, his chin jutted out as though daring Remus to try to contradict him. Of all the ways Remus had imagined that the conversation might go, this wasn’t one of them. He wasn’t prepared for the anger flashing in Harry’s eyes; the fight brewing just beneath the surface of his composure.

 

Hot shame rushed through Remus, for all this time he’d been doing the exact thing that Sirius hated - thinking of Harry as an adult when he was really only a teenager, no matter how unique. Grief would make anyone angry and unpredictable, but Harry was fifteen years old and had the fate of their world resting on his shoulders. Of course he wasn’t going to react like Remus was expecting.

 

“You were set up, Harry. It wasn’t your fault,” Remus said quietly. “And, to be perfectly honest… Sirius was never the most level-headed man in the room. He got careless, he got cocky, and Bellatrix took advantage of that.”

 

Harry sat down heavily on the bed closest to him, as though his legs had decided not to support his weight anymore. He’d gone ashen, and Remus regretted the words. He’d had years to resign himself to the fact that Sirius was probably going to die young. Even when they’d all been Harry’s age, he’d just known it, as though it had been written into his very bones. Sirius lived too fast and shone too bright, and his intensity was going to come at a price.

 

He wouldn’t trade the short years they had together for anything, even though he selfishly wished for more. He would always want more. But for Harry to have been robbed of any time with his godfather that wasn’t spent with Sirius looking over his shoulder, waiting to be apprehended again - well, that was profoundly unfair.

 

Remus was reminded again of the document in his pocket, and he sat down on the edge of the bed across from Harry, their knees almost brushing. He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs, lacing his fingers together.

 

“Harry -” he started, but Harry cut him off.

 

“I thought I was gonna see him.” Harry wasn’t even looking at him. He was staring, glassy-eyed, at a point beyond Remus’s shoulder, and Remus turned around to follow his gaze.

 

There was a shattered mirror on the floor, likely the source of the earlier crash. Remus was still trying to puzzle out its significance when Harry went on. “Sirius gave it to me. It’s - it’s a two-way mirror, he said. All I had to do was say his name and he’d be there. I only just opened it now. If I’d had it earlier, he might not be -”

 

Harry cut himself off short of saying the word. When Remus turned around again to look at him, his eyes were swimming.

 

“He _always_ comes when I ask,” he bit out angrily. “But I tried and there was _nothing_ -”

 

Remus didn’t make the conscious decision to reach for Harry. He moved on instinct, before he had a chance to think about it, and Harry fell into his arms. He pressed his face into Remus’s shoulder and wrapped thin arms around his torso, leaning over the gap between the beds that separated them. Remus wrapped both his arms around Harry’s back and held him close. Harry’s shoulders trembled, but he wept silently.

 

“I know, Harry,” Remus said softly. “I know.”

 

He slid a hand up Harry’s back to cup the back of his head, and he rested his cheek on top of the mop of familiar messy hair and closed his eyes. Everyone, himself included, treated Harry like an adult when it suited their needs and a child when it didn’t. It was easier to put the burden of saving their world on an adult, but the moment they didn’t want him to know something - didn’t want him to overhear some vital piece of information - then he was nothing more than a child to be chased away.

 

But everyone forgot - or refused to see - that he was only fifteen; that his voice was still changing and his limbs were growing too quickly for his body, and that Remus could feel each of his ribs through his thin t-shirt. That not only was he not an adult, he had never even had the chance to _be_ a child, and there was nothing on Earth that could change that.

 

Remus didn’t have his handkerchief on him, so when Harry finally pulled away, he used the sleeve of his robe to wipe the dampness off Harry’s cheeks. Harry wouldn’t meet his eyes, but he allowed the tender gesture without comment.

 

“Back at Christmas,” Remus said quietly, “Sirius asked me to do something for him. He didn’t tell you because he wanted it to be a surprise for the end of term, but, well…”

 

He trailed off and cleared his throat. Harry was looking at him curiously now, his eyes still bloodshot and face blotchy.

 

“What is it?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

 

“He appointed me your godfather.” Remus paused to allow Harry to absorb this news, knowing that it must have been some kind of shock. Though in comparison to losing Sirius, it probably didn’t register much at all. Harry merely blinked at him. “Sirius could never take you in properly, not while being a fugitive. But he thought that if someone else had a legitimate claim as your legal guardian, we might be able to get you away from the Dursleys once and for all, blood protection be damned.”

 

Harry stared at him. “You were going to take me away?”

 

Remus nodded. “We both were, at the end of the term. Sirius had this grand plan to surprise you on the platform - as Padfoot, of course - and we’d take you to my place. I’ve got this house up north, you see, and…”

 

He trailed off, the fond smile that touched his lips fading as reality sank in. They’d talked about it for hours, wrapped around one another in Sirius’s bed at Grimmauld Place, planning out the logistics and how they were going to break the news to Dumbledore. To hell with what the old man thought, Sirius had said on multiple occasions, but Remus had thought that a more diplomatic approach was warranted.

 

But now Sirius was dead, and unless someone intervened, Harry was going back to an abusive home. Remus wasn’t feeling as charitable now as he had been six months ago.

 

“No,” Remus said, shaking his head. “Present tense, Harry. I _am_ going to take you away. If that’s what you want, of course. It was Sirius’s wish, and I see no reason why that shouldn’t be honoured.”

 

“But -” Harry was visibly struggling to process this news, hope and wariness flashing across his face. He had been given hope too many times before and had it taken away from him just as quickly. Remus wasn’t about to let that happen again. “I couldn’t ask you to do that. And Dumbledore’s said that I need to stay with the Dursleys -”

 

“Harry.” Remus reached out and put a hand on his shoulder; Harry fell silent. “Listen to me. Forget all of that for a moment. What is it _you_ want?”

 

“I want him back,” Harry whispered, and a fist closed around Remus’s heart.

 

“I know,” he said softly. “And I’m sorry I can’t make that happen for you. This is the best I can do. Don’t think about the blood protection, or the expectations that everyone has for you. Just for a moment. What do _you_ want? Do you want to go back to the Dursleys?”

 

“God, no,” Harry said quietly.

 

“All you have to do is say the word,” Remus said. “It won’t be as safe as your aunt and uncle’s house, you have to realise that. But I don’t think you’ve been safe there for a long time, have you?”

 

It was there only briefly, but Remus didn’t miss the flicker of fear in Harry’s eyes, and he had to swallow his fury at the Dursleys.

 

“Yes,” Harry whispered, so softly it was almost inaudible. He cleared his throat and said, a bit louder, “I want to go with you. Please.”

 

Remus withdrew his hand and reached into his pocket to pull out the piece of parchment Sirius had him sign all those months ago.

 

“We put it in writing,” he said, unfolding it and handing it to Harry. “I’m taking it to Dumbledore right now.”

 

“I’ll go with you,” Harry said, looking up from the document. Remus shook his head.

 

“No,” he said. “Let me fight this battle for you, Harry. For once.”

 

“What if he says no?”

 

“He _is_ going to say no,” Remus said. “But that’s alright. There’s nothing he can do to stop it. When Sirius died, the guardianship spells binding him to you transferred automatically to me. They’re not as powerful as blood protection, but they’re decent enough. Safer than staying with strangers, at any rate. The spells mean that Dumbledore can’t deny that I’m your godfather, even if I didn’t have that piece of parchment. And I have the right to take you into my home.”

 

“It’s going to be dangerous,” Harry said. “I’m not exactly a good luck charm.”

 

“He says to the werewolf,” Remus said dryly, and Harry cracked a small smile. “I know what I’m getting myself into, Harry. And I don’t care.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because I’ve loved you since before you were born,” Remus said honestly, and Harry froze in surprise. “And I want to do right by my best friends’ son.”

 

Remus took the document back from Harry and returned it to his pocket. He then pushed himself to his feet. Harry followed him to the door.

 

“Go down to the feast,” Remus said quietly. He pulled Harry into another hug. “Get some rest. And I’ll see you tomorrow at King’s Cross.”

 

They pulled apart, and Harry whispered, “Thank you.”

 

Remus ruffled his hair once, gave him a reassuring smile, and departed.

 


End file.
